Not Alone
by Okada Chiaki
Summary: Kurama comforts Botan. Short drabble.


Not Alone

Summary: Kurama comforts Botan. Short drabble.

Disclaimer: Yu Yu Hakusho's rightful owner is Yoshihiro Togashi.

"Botan..."

"Don't," the ferry girl growled when he tried to snatch the bottle of alcohol out of her grasp, "I need this."

"No, you don't. This isn't like you," he said softly, fingers trying to pry off her stubborn ones from the glass, "You have to stop. You're drunk."

"Better than being sober..."

"Botan..." he said again, although this time his voice was firmer. She looked up at him, and stared back at the forlorn look in his eyes, which seemed to grow as she took another sip of her new best friend - her bottle of vodka.

"Where's Yukina?" she asked, avoiding his gaze.

"She's in the other room next to this one. She's... coping."

A small hiccup involuntarily left her lips, the tears stinging at the back of her eyes visible in the kitsune's view. She didn't reply, so he placed one hand of her shoulder. "Are you alright?" he questioned in a gentle voice, afraid that she might break if he said the wrong words.

Again, she didn't answer. Instead, she inquired, "Does she blame me?"

He sighed. "Botan..."

"Answer me, Kurama, does she blame me for taking Kuwabara?" she asked again, louder this time. Finally, she lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes stern.

He almost seemed angry. "No. Of course not. Why would you even think that?" His voice also seemed to rise up a notch, and he'd never rose his voice on her before, so it caught her a bit off guard. Even so, she regained her composure quicker than expected - or at least, the most composure one could have while intoxicated.

"Ten years ago, I took Keiko from Yusuke. Then, he died seven years and a half later - and again, I was the one who ferried his soul." A single tear felled down her right cheek. He swiftly wiped it away. "And today - today, I took poor Kuwabara. And now, Y-Yukina..."

"She doesn't blame you," Kurama repeated, and this time, sounding firmer, "Neither of us do."

"Hiei's not talking to me. I think he cares a lot about Kuwabara, even though they were always trying to bite each other's heads off, and I think he hates me from taking Kuwabara away."

Every sentence he spoke didn't seem to get through her, but the kitsune was relentless. "Hiei doesn't blame you. No one in our group does. So, stop beating yourself up over this." Emerald orbs softened, and warm hands cupped her cheeks, which were now fully flooded by her tears. He leaned in, and kissed them away. "Yusuke, Kuwabara and Keiko would never want to see you like this."

That was when she finally broke, letting go of the bottle of alcohol which he caught swiftly and set aside far, far away from her where she could never reach. When he returned to her, she quickly and suddenly enveloped him in a tight embrace, surprising him, but he never let go. Incoherent sentences escaped her, most of which were muffled by her loud sobs, and all the while he was whispering soothing words into her ear, running his hand comfortingly through her hair.

"I'm scared," she cried, "I'm scared I'll be taking everyone away from everyone - from me. I feel like everyone's dying, and it's all my fault. And that one day, I'll be ferrying yours, Yukina's, or even Hiei's souls and-and... and I don't want to be left alone. I don't want to lose you guys..."

"Shh, shh," he whispered, "It's okay, you're not alone. I'll never leave you alone."

She lifted her head from his chest, staring up at him with bright amethyst orbs glimmering with tears. And in the long decades he had known her, this was the first time he could finally read through her emotions. Sorrow, pain, guilt, loneliness... all could be seen through her eyes.

He would never let her feel the same thing ever again.

"Promise?" she asked, before burying her head back into his chest. "Promise me you'll never leave me."

He smiled. "I promise," and he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "I won't."

She hugged him tightly, crying her eyes out, and not for one second, did he let her go. Their friends would pass on sooner or later - one day, they would. But, he would never leave her.

Not ever.

Then, somewhere in between his efforts of soothing her pain, his own tears had cascaded down his cheeks without him knowing. But, it was okay. This was okay. For one person, the burden might be hard to bear, but with two, it was a whole lot easier.

She was not alone. He was not alone.

They were not alone.


End file.
